Hostage
by BlueEyes444
Summary: For C. Reposted. A fun night celebrating Abby's birthday goes terribly wrong, when two of the team are kidnapped and two others left for the dead. With time running out, and not everything as it seems, it's a race against the clock to save them. Whump.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own _NCIS._**

**A/N: Due to taking this in a completely different direction then I first intended, I decided to start over. This is a repost. I have all the chapters written out and I'll be posting once a week or so. The prologue is mostly the same with chapter one bridging the way to some major changes. The rating is now a _high_ T due to some future chapters.**

**Thanks!**

**For C, who's awesome and just amazing.**

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_Prologue_

It's dark, damp and cold in the warehouse.

He's sitting there, on that cold, cold concrete ground, back against the wall, broken and bleeding and he's singing "It's a Small World" in his head as he waits.

Darkness claws at his mind, tempting and taunting him, promising him an end of the pain if he just gives in but he stubbornly refuses it, at least for now.

He knows things will play out one way or the other, and it is going to end and he has to see this through,.

Tonight.

It's like a game of dominoes. No matter what move you do, it's all gonna crash down eventually.

A deadly sort of calm is over him though his heart is beating loud and fast against his chest.

Thud.

Thud.

Can they hear the pound of his heart?

He cracks a smile at this, though he's not sure why, opening up the cut across his lip.

Warm blood trickles down his chin.

He feels fingers brush away the blood on his chin and against his will, he flinches at the touch and not for the first time, he's glad he has a blindfold blocking out everything.

He can hear them talking in thick Russian and he's been around them long enough to pick up a few words such as "agent", "death" and "plan." And it doesn't take a genius to figure out what they're talking about.

The ropes that bind his wrists dig into his flesh though his hands have long since grown numb.

Her fingers start tracing pattern onto his skin and he shivers involuntarily.

"Are you willing to answer now?" she demands sharply and he pulls away automatically at the sound of her voice.

"Bite me," he rasps, his voice nothing more then a pathetic croak. His mouth is dry and his throat is agonizingly raw and talking is painful.

He doesn't have to see her to know she doesn't like his answer.

A beat of silence. And a small part of him hopes that she will drop it, leave him alone, but the bigger part of him knows that the smaller part is foolish. She won't leave, won't drop her endless demands.

"Fine," she says, with a loud sigh and her fingers brush him as she unties his blindfold. It falls. He blinks several times, trying to adjust his vision, as black spots dance across.

She's standing so close, he can smell her perfume. A strange mixture of blackberries and lavender.

"I am giving you one last chance," she says firmly, her eyes reflecting steel and fury. "Tell me where it is."

He makes a sound that could pass as a strangled laugh. "Not going to happen."

Reaching out, she slaps him and his face is left stinging.

"What will I have to do to make you tell me?" she demands, and she does it in a way that is both sultry and poisonous. "I do not want to hurt the girl but I will if you don't tell me. Your partner will get her neck snapped like a twig if you don't.""

He knows her. And he knows that she always makes good on her threats.

He swallows hard, which hurts more then it should, then meets her eyes. "For her life," he cautions, warning her that if he talks, she must be saved.

She presses her lips together then nods. "Very well." And for some reason, he suspects it's the truth.

He licks his lips, wincing as they sting. "I'm sure you know who I am," he begins, faking disinclination.

She looks at him, tilts her head to the side, prompts him to continue with, "Of course I do."

"And I'm sure you know how I got it?" He is buying precious time.

She says something in Russian before switching back to English to say, "I am not a fool."

And that's what he's afraid of.

She is going wary of his games.

"Never thought you are," he says easily, ignoring the pain that's coming back now that the morphine is wearing off. "Now, where was I?" He licks his lips, wincing at the sting. "Oh, yes. I was about to tell you where it was." He knows that he's baiting her, knows that this isn't the wisest move but right now, it's the only move he has.

She frowns then barks something in Russian to someone out of his eyesight. "Get on with it."

"I'm not stupid, y'know. I took great care into making this stayed hidden," he says, after a moment. "And-"

She puts her hand up, silently telling him to stop talking. "I really do not have time for this." She smiles. Chills go up his spine and his mind screams '_This is it!_' and he knows it is.

She turns her back to him, digs something out of one of her pockets before facing him again. It's a syringe. He doesn't try to jerk back. He's given up. She broke him and he's given up, and he did his best.

She smiles, leans over, and he feels the pressure of the needle as it drives into his arm and he's not afraid.

"You should've told me where to find it," she hisses, the world turning gray and spots of dark dancing across his vision. He chokes as his lungs struggle for air.

The hold on awareness lessons.

"I'll find that key one way or another," she says, and that is the last thing he knows before the world turns black.


	2. step one: abduction

**Disclaimer: I don't own _NCIS._**

**_Thanks to everyone for the support. You guys are awesome._**

**A/N: Oh my gosh, the finale blew me away. I'm curious to know what you guys thought of it. Feel free to send your thoughts in. :) And if you haven't seen it yet, go watch it.**

**Being sick seriously screws up your updating plan, haha. But, hopefully now I can get back to the swing of things.**

**I'm in no ways a medical professional so I got and will continue to get all my info from the internet.**

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i.

step one: abduction

_Thirty-six hours before_

Tony takes a sip of his wine to cover up a yawn but Gibbs's sharp stare tells him that he wasn't as clever as he hoped.

Out of a habit more then anything, he pulls his phone from his pocket and checks for any missed calls and is almost disappointed to see there's none. Even after all this time, some small part of him still hopes that his father gives a damn.

His lips twisting up in a bitter smile, Tony stuffs his phone back into his pocket and takes another sip of his wine, eyes darting towards the door of the restaurant.

He drums his fingers on the table.

His skin crawls.

Sixth sense, gut feeling, call it what you will but something isn't quite settling right with him and hasn't since they came here.

"Tony?" McGee nudges him with an elbow and in seconds, Tony plasters his best smile on his lips.

"That _is_ my name," he tosses back and at McGee's frown, he knows it isn't his usual barb.

"Everything okay?"

"Of course it is, McWorry," he reassures his fellow agent with a careful smirk. McGee studies him for a long moment before shrugging and turning away from Tony and resuming his conversation with Ducky.

Letting a sigh escape his lips, he takes another sip of his wine, cringing at the sweet taste.

It's Abby's birthday and for once, all the team are there to celebrate. Which is a bit weird seeing that he can't actually recall a time when all the team got the chance to celebrate someone's birthday together.

Leaning back in his chair, crossing his feet casually under the table, he quickly glances over his team, everyone else in conversation with another before his eyes travel back to the door.

It's about then that the men walk in.

Six men. The younger looking no older then twenty and the oldest being at least fifty. They are dressed in suits, and at first glance, they seem fine.

Shaking his head, Tony takes another sip of his wine and with two fingers tug gently at his collar, slightly loosening his tie.

Something about this group of seemly harmless men has peeked his interest though he's not sure what it is.

"Is it just me or is something about that group off?" It's McGee.

Without missing a beat Tony replies, "Not just you, Probie."

His boss may be facing with his back towards the door but Tony is willing to bet that Gibbs knows exactly what's going on. He had the whole eyes in the back of the head thing down to a pact.

Position tense, he watches the strange group of men as they head to a table, noting the tense way they hold themselves. Something about this whole thing is just a little off.

It is then that he catches a flash of metal.

Damn it.

The youngest man is definitely carrying. Which probably means that others are as well.

"I think we've got trouble," he says softly, drawing the whole team's attention to him.

McGee is the only other one who can see the men as clear and it only takes seconds for him to spot the piece as well.

"Don't think they're on our side either," McGee says and Tony carefully slides his gun out from the jacket hostler he's wearing, and clicks the safety off. He is dimly aware that Ducky, Palmer and Abby are heading to the back because his full attention on the younger man. There is something, something that has him captivated and .

"DiNozzo," his boss barks and it breaks him out of whatever hold that kid has him under. He stands up quickly, the other three following suit.

"Everybody freeze! This is a robbery!"

It's the kid with his gun and McGee mumbles, "Here we go."

Gibbs addresses them as federal agents and he cocks his gun, ordering them to _drop it now._

And for a moment, it looks like maybe this will go down without a firefight but then a woman screams and Tony is painfully reminded that they are without their vasts.

In seconds, bullets are flying from both groups and Tony can barely hear anything other then loud ringing in his ears.

His blood pumping, he hits one with a kill shot before his arm (right arm, damn it.) is grazed and he doesn't allow himself to fell the pain as his shirt sleeve is quickly soaked with warm liquid.

Swearing, he ducks down behind an overturned table and cheeks his clip, _three more shots._

He's lost track of his team, and people are screaming and crying, and God, he's feeling lightheaded.

Glancing down, he notes that it's an awful lot of blood that is covering his arm and maybe it's not a graze as he had first thought.

He still doesn't feel the pain.

Gritting his teeth, he leans back against the table dizziness washes over him. Yep. He's been hit. And judging by how fast the blood is soaking his arm, the bullet has hit something pretty major.

Okay. First.

He'll worry about this later.

He has a team to help.

Peering around the side of the table, he finds that he has eyes on McGee, who is reloading his clip behind another overturned table a few feet away.

As if sensing Tony's gaze, McGee looks up and noticeably pales as soon as his eyes find Tony's blood soaked sleeve.

"Are you okay?" he mouths and Tony nods, and well, no, actually, he's not okay but he's not going to bring that up.

McGee shoots him a look, shakes his head, then leans around the other side of the table and fires. And by the sound, something was hit.

His hands shaking, he rips off his other sleeve and ties it clumsily around his bicep, wincing. That should help for now.

Rubbing the hand of his uninjured arm though his hair, smearing blood, he checks his clip again, just realizing that he's done that earlier as he peers around the table again.

Three gunman lay dead and out of the corner of his eye, he catches a flash of gold on one of their belts.

What the hell?

That's when the world goes dark.


	3. step two: ethan

**Disclaimer: _NCIS_ doesn't belong to me.**

**Next chapter, we'll get more of Tony and we can see what's happening with Abby and the team. For now, we'll get a glimpse at the bad guys. Enjoy! **

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ii.

step two: ethan

Staring down at the unmoving and bleeding federal agent, Ethan dimly thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's in over his head.

_Please, don't let me have killed him. _

His hands shaking, he tucks his gun into the waist of his jeans and leans down, his fingers quickly ghosting over the other man's wrist and is relived when he finds a pulse.

Okay. Just knocked him out then. He breaths a sigh of relief, before glancing around for an exit. He's lost the others somewhere in the chaos and at this point, he could care less. This wasn't what he signed up for.

The deafening sound of gunshots makes it hard for him to concentrate and there is his escape. Kitchen back door.

As Ethan turns, he is met with a rough, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

He freezes, _damn, _licks his lips before slowly turning slowly around, his gaze becoming locked with Bram's.

Though Ethan will never admit it, Bram scares him.

Wearily, he offers, "Retreat?"

Bram just stares at him, gray eyes cold and says flatly, "Kole and Edmund are dead and Harry, by the look of things, will follow shortly."

Swearing in hard Russian, Ethan turns away from the other man, trying desperately to keep his emotions in check. "We need to get out of here. _Now, _ Bram."

He can feel Bram studying him before, "Right. Find Harry and Callum and I'll draw their fire." He laughs and it's a cold and dark sound. "Though I think we only have one standing now so it should be pretty easy."

It is that last line that has Ethan looking at him again. "What? We weren't supposed to kill anyone!" He's bordering on hysterical. This was definitely not what he signed up for.

Bram smirks, checks his clip with a natural ease. "Did I say that they were dead, kid?" He pauses then add, almost as an afterthought. "Take the agent. He's not the one we want but he'll do." He ducks around the fallen table and it takes a moment for Ethan to realize what the older man just told him.

"Damn," he whispers, his gaze falling down to the unconscious agent. As if sensing his gaze, the man moans but otherwise doesn't stir.

"I'm sorry. I really don't want to do this, " he says before sighing. Ethan pulls him up the best he can, and throws one of the man's arm's around his shoulders and braces the man the best he can do with one of his arms.

Awkwardly, he stumbles towards the kitchen area, noting the sound of sirens. He's running out of time. Swearing softly, he half carries and half drags the man through the kitchen, trying to ignore the scared looks of the restaurant workers.

"Sorry about this folks. I'll pick up the tab on the way out." He calls this out and there's going to be hell to pay when he gets back home, Bram will make sure of it, but at this point he can care less.

There. Back door. Grunting, he staggers through the door, his shoulders screaming from the other man's weight, which is made of, he can only guess, mostly muscle.

_This is probably going to be the most unprofessional kidnapping in history. _Ethan thinks ruefully and if there's any doubt that Bram will have his butt when this is over, there's none now.

Relief washes over him when his gaze falls on their familiar black van.

Shifting all of the man's weight to one side, he opens the van's side door, and hauls the man in, laying him half-hazardously in.

His shoulders thank him and he jumps out, his feet landing hard on the ground.

Turning around, he runs right smack into Callum.

And an unconscious woman is thrown over his shoulder bridal style.

For a moment, Ethan isn't sure what to do. Letting his instincts take over, he silently takes a step sideways and lets Callum crawl in with the woman.

Just seconds later, Bram bursts through the door, eyes wild, as he drags the limp form of Harry behind him.

The only thing Ethan can do is stare at Harry, bloodied and unconscious, and no, no, no-

"Keller, snap out of it," Bram barks from inside the door, and Ethan is jostled back to reality.

Moving on autopilot, he runs to the driver's side, and jumps in, slamming the door shut before switching the engine on, and if his hands are shaking, and he can barely get air to his lungs, well, he won't say.

Hitting his foot on the accelerator, he manages to get out, "How's Harry?"

It's Bram who says, "He'll be lucky if he makes it back home alive."

His cheat heaving, Ethan can barely keep his hands on the steering wheel as he pulls into bustling traffic.

"Hey, he'll be okay, man," Callum says, from somewhere behind him, and a warm hand pats his shoulder. "Harry's tough. He's had worse then a couple bullets."

Ethan takes a shaky breath and nods. "Yeah, you're right." He pauses, swallows hard. "Thanks, Callum."

Silence then, "Why the hell did you take her?" Bram's harsh voice causes Ethan to flinch as his hands tighten around the steering wheel.

"She knew me, man," Callum says wearily. "Sh knew me and I couldn't take the chance."

"We probably left DNA all over the place," Ethan points out softly, trembling just a little.

Bram lets out a growl and punches, what Ethan can only assume, the floor of the van in frustration. "We're screwed." Exhaling sharply, he continues, "But...we can work this to our advantage, if we play this right."

Ethan's feeling sort of detached from the whole thing, maybe some sort of defense mechanism, maybe shock, he can't really care right now.

"What do you mean, man?" Callum asks, and _yeah, what does Bram mean_? Ethan wonders. Because it'll probably end in a rain of bullets and blood and he honestly can't take many more of Bram's plans.

Bram chuckles, and it sends shivers up Ethan's spine. "What is the expression? Oh, yes. We can kill two birds with one stone. I'll have to run it by, _Lacy_ first, of course." He's baiting Ethan, throwing out his aunt's first name like that, daring him to say something about the personal way that Bram spoke of her.

Ethan presses his teeth together, anger bursting through his apathy, and he fights to swallow his words. He won't raise to Bram's bait.

He takes a sharp turn, ending up on a long road with no cars in sight. "Cal, let Kade and Jill know that they need to be ready to strip this van when we get there, please."

Bram snorts at the use of "please" and Ethan doesn't have to see Callum to know that he's grinning. "I'll text Kade now to let him know, man."

It's not long before Ethan takes another sharp turn, this time ending up in front of what, at first glance, appears to be an abandoned house.

A tall chain link fence stretches across the front of the yard and an old barn looms in the back. Long grass and weeds fill up the front yard and if Ethan hadn't lived here his whole life, he would say this place had long sense seen life.

With a bang, Callum jumps out of the van and unlocks the padlock that keeps the gate tightly closed. Ethan drives in, parking just a few feet away from the gate and waits for Callum to get back in after he locks it back.

Driving slowly in the fading twilight, Ethan pulls the van up to the barn.

"Lydia, we need help!" he calls as he gets out and in seconds, his cousin flies out of the barn, loose black hair falling in curls.

"How bad?"

Callum by then has Harry in bridal style over his shoulder and Lydia takes one look at the drying blood on Callum's shirt before she's motioning him to follow her back into the barn.

Ethan stares blankly after the trio, and the damn apathy is back, clawing at his insides. Harry, Harry, Harry.

"Come on, Keller, I need help with these two." It is Bram's order that snaps him back. Walking over to Bram, he eyes the inside of the car, noting the blood that covers the man.

"I've got them." He finds himself saying, the words falling from his lips. "Why don't you check in?" Bram doesn't mind this. He's not one that likes to dirty his hands.

Bram leaves and Ethan finds himself staring at two unconscious bodies. Sighing, he decides that even if the man wakes up while he's gone, he's in no condition to try anything, he picks up the woman, carrying her gently against his chest, and takes her her to the house.

Slipping in the back door, and with an easy quiet, he takes her down a hallway and to his room. Laying her on the bed, he shuffles through his clothes that are scattered across the floor before finding a pair of handcuffs. He snaps one to her wrist then the other half to his headboard. Fishing through more clothes, he locates a bandana.

Before tying it around her eyes, he gives her one long look. She's pretty, he thinks.

Sighing, he quickly leaves and shuts the door, running into tiny, blonde (she-devil, he thinks silently) Rita. Taking in her half dressed state, he scowls, knowing whose room she's leaving.

"Seriously?"

She shrugs, looking properly ashamed. "I didn't think anyone was here right now."

Ethan snorts before motioning to his door. "We have a guest. Mind patting her down?"

Rita nods. "Sure. Just don't tell anyone...about this?" She winces.

Ethan sighs, stuffs his hands in his pockets. "It's none of my business what goes on with him."

Grinning, Rita places quick kiss on his cheek. "Thanks. I owe you one."

Rolling his eyes, Ethan pushes past her and heads out the back door again, jogging quickly back to the van. Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Ethan finds out that he was right. The man hadn't woken up while he was gone.

Slowly, he reaches out and touches the man's pulse, and one, two, three, fo-

There. A pulse, weak though, answers him back.

"Thank you," he whispers and he's not really sure to who. Harry w- No, don't of him right now. He half drags and half carries the man to the barn, apologizing every time the man moans.

Stumbling through the open door, Ethan takes a sharp left into a stall, or well, a room now that his aunt converted all the stalls into rooms, and drops the man onto a pile of hay. He doesn't stir and for a moment all Ethan does is stare.

This is the first time he's gotten a chance to look at his captive. And there's something strikingly familiar about him though he can't place his finger on it.

Sighing, he crouches down and fishes through the other man's pockets before finding what he's looking for.

_Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo? _He doesn't recognize the name and his lips twist in a bitter smile.

"Must be just one of those faces, huh?" Tucking the agent's ID into his pockets, he studies the hay that is growing steadily red from the man's blood.

Without turning around, he calls over his shoulder, "Ali, I think I'm going to need help in here!"

* * *

There," Ali says, pulling off her bloodied latex gloves. "I got the bullet out and he should be fine. Though he's lost a lot of blood so don't take my word on it."

Ethan nods, eyes studying the floor. "Okay, thanks, Ali. I'll stay with him right now. Can you check on the woman?"

Ali squeezes his shoulder as she moves past him. "Sure. And Ethan? Harry will fine." He hears the thud of the door as she closes it behind her.

_He has to be, he has too._

Sighing, Ethan sinks to the ground besides the wounded agent and pulls out his iPod, plucking the ear buds into his ears and cranking up the volume.

Pulling his gun from his pants, he clicks the safety on (oh, God, was he ever lucky that thing didn't go off while the safety wasn't on.) and puts it beside him, close enough to reach quickly if he needs it but he doubts he will.

"What am I gonna do with you Special Agent DiNozzo?"

He doesn't expect an answer so he's surprised when an answering moan fills the air.

Jerking out his ear-buds, he tosses them and his iPod to the ground and scampers the few inches to Agent DiNozzo's side, just in time for lids to reveal glazed green eyes.

"Hey, good to see you awake." The words tumble from his mouth,

fast and out of control. "How are you feeling?"

Looking dazed, all the agent does is give a stiff nod, obviously trying to gain his bearings. "W-where am I?"

"Um. Well, in a barn?" Ethan offers and Agent DiNozzo stares at him for a long moment before nodding again, this time cringing at the movement.

"A barn," he repeats softly, voice engraved in pain. "Can you tell me why I'm here?"

Ethan shrugs hopelessly. "I don't have an answer for you there." Settling back into a comfortable position, he motions to the agent's arm. "We got the bullet out and the reason you're feeling so out of it is because of blood loss and the-"

"Morphine?" Tony guesses with a wince, and _damn it, stop getting personal with him, Keller. _A voice that sounds like Bram says in his head.

"Yep," Ethan readily agrees, snatching up his iPod again and sliding it into his pockets, this time turning if off.

His movements are being carefully monitored by Agent DiNozzo and even as out of it as he is, he's sure to have spotted the gun.

"Why don't you rest for a bit and when you wake, I'll see if I can find some food and water?" Ethan suggests for lack of anything else and he has no idea what to do with a kidnapped federal agent, he really doesn't.

Agent DiNozzo considers it before relenting and closing his eyes, though his body is still tense, still on guard.

Ethan watches him for a long moment. Though he's wounded, he's dangerous and Ethan must keep reminding himself of this fact, to keep his guard up at all costs.

Sighing silently, Ethan leans back against the wall, his gaze never leaving the other man.

He really is in over his head.


End file.
